Checkpoint
by AHS
Summary: After one of his top employees goes missing, Dr Quest is forced to send Jonny and Jessie in undercover to save the man and his family.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Checkpoint

Author: Allie Stillwell

Summary: After one of his top employees goes missing, Dr Quest is forced to send Jonny and Jessie in undercover to save the man and his family.

---

The house wasn't as big, and there was an almost complete lack of anything vaguely laboratory-centric, but the most important thing was that the climate of Southern California was much more bearable than either the Keys or Maine.

Jessie Bannon was especially aware of this fact as she stretched out on the back patio of the newest of the Quest houses in Avalon, California on the tiny island of Santa Catalina. In the not-so-far distance, a cruise ship was moored with excited tourists being taxied back and forth on slow-moving motor boats so that they could take advantage of the souvenirs being offered by profiteers along the road that crept from edge to edge of downtown Avalon. It was days like these when the locals holed themselves up in their houses on the outskirts, biked up to the distant protection of the Wrigley Memorial Gardens, or headed down to Two Harbors to visit that not-so-close friend who just happened to live in the less popular of the two cities on the island. From Wrigley Terrace, however, the occupants could look down upon the streets of Avalon, watch the divers and boaters tend their equipment on slow days, see the catamaran bussing people over from mainland California, and even see the orange flickers of swimming Garibaldi through binoculars, all without the bother of mixing themselves with the masses of people undulating through the city on any given warm day in the summer.

She was dressed in shorts and a tank-top, her green eyes covered with sunglasses against the bright July sun. Her hands were placed behind her on the cool, shaded red tile, supporting her weight as she leaned back and let her pale legs rest in the sun, hoping to let their colour catch up with her slightly tanned arms that emerged after an awful burning from skin diving that left her shoulders, back, and even lower buttocks peeling. Blowing a stray red hair from her face, she looked up to see Jonny Quest walk up to her with two tall glasses of ice water. He squinted against the sun and laughed a bit as he watched another boatload of tourists alighted one of the taxi boats.

'At least we went to the grocery store yesterday,' Jessie said, a tone of resignation in her voice as she reached up to take the frosty glass from Jonny.

Jonny started to sit down but was nipped by Bandit, who had just come up behind him. Pushing the dog between them, Jonny sat down beside Jessie and leaned back against a hand as he drank his glass of water. 'They'll be gone before night fall, and then we can just go back to being slow and boring.'

Bandit licked at the condensation on the outside of Jessie's glass, and after taking a long drink at the water, she tipped the glass so the dog could drink some of the cold water inside before taking it back up to her own lips and slouching forward as she took another drink.

'Ew, Jess,' Jonny said, making a face as she drank from the glass. 'Bandit spit in that.'

She shrugged and then watched after Bandit as he ran off towards her father, who had just opened the tall glass doors leading out to the patio. Jessie smiled broadly at him, but he was stiflingly serious as he looked down at the two college students.

'Jonny, your dad just got back from the laboratory at USC Wrigley,' he said grimly, and Jonny raised an eyebrow. 'We need to talk to you.'

'What's wrong, Dad?' asked Jessie uncomfortably, setting down her glass and standing up. Jonny set his glass besides hers and looked up at them.

'We'll talk about it inside.'

Jonny and Jessie gave each other covert, questioning glances as Race turned and walked back towards the doors, the two twenty-somethings following close behind.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Checkpoint

Author: Allie Stillwell

Summary: After one of his top employees goes missing, Dr Quest is forced to send Jonny and Jessie in undercover to save the man and his family.

---

Usually whenever anyone walked into Dr Quest's mahogany-walled office, he or she would be offered a smile and a seat, and before the good doctor got down to whatever business was at hand, the visitor and he would have a delightful conversation about lighter topics as they looked out onto Avalon Harbour before getting to the subject of the visit. It was always a nice ice-breaker, and it took some of the sting away from whatever terrible news he had, be it as innocuous as a slightly bad financial quarter or as horrifying as a chemical plant meltdown that was sure to engulf the entire Los Angeles area. He was always the most dignified of businessmen.

Today, however, it was different. The three of them walked in, Race prohibiting Bandit from following, and Dr Quest was grimly sitting at his desk. There were no smiles, no offers of cushy chairs or lemonade, and definitely no gleeful delaying conversations. Jonny was more than slightly taken aback and showed it, but Jessie quickly adopted a decidedly militaristic attitude. Her face became as serious as her father's as she took a seat across from Dr Quest, looking him in the eyes as Jonny concentrated more on his steepled fingers. Once Race pulled a chair up for himself, all were seated and Dr Quest looked between the children before speaking.

'What does the name "Davenport" mean to you?' he asked them both.

'There's a mathematician named Harold Davenport,' said Jonny after a long gap of silence.

'I don't think that a mathematician whose been dead for over forty years is a good reason to call a meeting,' said Jessie with a snarky tone.

Jonny gave her a dirty look which she returned in kind, but Dr Quest nodded his head a bit.

'You're close,' replied Dr Quest, relaxing his shoulders a bit. 'The mathematician's great-niece is who I'm concerned with, or more specifically, her husband.'

Jonny raised an eyebrow. 'But what does--'

'John Davenport,' interrupted Jessie suddenly, and in his peripheral vision, Jonny could see Race smile a bit. 'The former head of the Central Intelligence Agency. He has a daughter named Hannah.'

Jonny gaped at her as she turned to look at him with a little, nervous smile and a shrug.

'She used to baby-sit me.'

'Several years ago, we sent a team of Quest Enterprises research scientists to work with the CIA on the development of espionage equipment for use in detecting and examining terrorist plans,' said Dr Quest, opening a file that sat on the desk in front of him. 'The head scientist of the group was Dr William Kunstler, who was at that time stationed in our laboratories in the Tsushima Islands doing work with both the Japanese and Korean governments. He went to Langley and began work on the project with the aid of his team and Hannah Davenport, who helped with research and was additionally the head of security for the project.'

'I remember Dr Kunstler,' said Jonny, glancing at Jessie quickly as though it were some sort of contest between the two; she didn't bite.

'Because they worked together so intimately, they became very well-acquainted and were married when the contract was fulfilled,' Dr Quest continued. 'They had a daughter before disappearing over night a little over two years ago.'

'Hannah was able to avoid our detection for about sixteen months, but ten months ago, her name flashed up in the database of a Berlin hospital,' explained Race as he lounged in his chair. 'Benton sent one of his European employees to investigate and he was able to determine that the Kunstlers are the victims of a kidnapping, but rather than the kidnappers demanding money for the safety of their daughter, they're wanting to be paid in kind.'

'They have Dr Kunstler working with them to develop weapons systems for use against an unknown target,' explained Dr Quest, leaning on his elbows on the smooth surface of his desk. 'The last dossier we received from our contact said that Hannah Kunstler was living alone in Berlin with her husband dropping by infrequently; every three weeks, her husband comes home and they leave together by train to Geneva. The latest time, three days ago, our contact followed them from the train station and has not been heard from since. We did, however, receive this at our New York City offices early this morning.'

Dr Quest turned a couple of pages in the folder and picked up a photograph, hesitating before handing it to Jonny. He leaned towards Jessie as they looked at the photograph together, Jessie gasping a little as Jonny simply stared blankly at the image of a human hand with a wedding band affixed firmly to the ring finger.

'Our contact's wife identified that as his wedding band,' Dr Quest said, vocalising what they all already knew.

'But Dad,' Jonny asked, looking up from the photo. 'What does this have to do with us?'

Dr Quest hesitated and Race quickly picked up the slack. 'You two are going to Berlin.'

'What?' exclaimed Jessie, snapping her head around to look at her father. 'You show us a picture of our predecessor's severed hand and then expect us to go in?'

'Yes, I expect you to go in,' Race replied harshly. 'And I expect you to do a much more careful job than the last person.'

'We can't just go to Berlin,' Jonny said in an odd tone. 'They know us. We're highly identifiable in both name and physique.'

'We have disguise experts coming in to redesign your looks,' said Race. 'And we already have your new identities.'

Leaning, he fished two passports out of his pocket, one in dark blue embossed with the ornate gold seal of the government of Canada and the other rich red with the seal of the government of Colombia etched in silver. He handed the blue to Jonny and the red to Jessie, and each opened their respective document to example the front page.

'Inez Arboleda,' muttered Jessie, running her finger over the laminated surface of the information page.

'Benjamin Nathaniel Crew,' said Jonny in response, looking over to check out Jessie's photograph on the page. 'I guess this is how you're expecting us to look?'

'It's exactly how you'll look,' replied a voice from across the room, and Race immediately stood and strode over to shake hands with the man.

'This is Robert Nilsson. He is a former disguise master for the Agency,' said Race in introduction before turning back to the man. 'Glad you could make it.'

'Happy to be of service,' Robert said sadly. 'Hannah's a good girl, and I know her father misses her very much. I think that any of us who know her and her family would be willing to make the sacrifices necessary to recover her safely.'

There was heavy silence before Robert's gaze moved to the two twenty-somethings and he cleared his throat before motioning to them.

'Come on, you two. Time is a factor here.'

They stood and followed him, Jonny giving a backward glance to his father, who seemed more nervous than when they had first entered his office. As the heavy doors closed after the group of three leaving the room, Jonny saw his father pinch the bridge of his nose as Race stood motionlessly, the two fathers torn between what they wanted to do and what they had to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Berlin was beautiful in the summer. Everything was lush, especially the forests in Grünewald on the western edge of the city, and despite the staggering heat that ushered in the midday, everything was quite lovely. Around Freie Universität, summer students from around the world milled about, all of them speaking in English as they bought decidedly German school supplies set up on a table in a cracked and partially grassy courtyard outside of the Mensa. A bus hummed by on Habelschwerdter, the eleven-something X11 that told Hannah that it was time to leave her safehaven amongst the blur of students and head back to her singular existence in her Mariendorf apartment. As students began spilling back into the Mensa for afternoon classes, she closed her book and stood, throwing a messenger bag over her shoulder and walking glumly toward the Thielplatz station.

As always, when she began to walk, she could see the two men -- her 'keepers' as she called them -- slipping out of the café in the Mensa building to follow about fifty metres behind her as she moved to the station. Looking down at her feet with the strap of the bag hooked in one thumb, she tried her best to ignore them as she tapped across the shaded sidewalk and down the stairs to the train platform. As she stood watching the train squealing in from Krumme Lanke, the men stood stiffly by, their lips squeezed shut into thin lines. She always wanted to tell them to relax, but she'd been warned that if she ever spoke to either of them without first being spoken to, she would further risk her family's safety.

The doors of the train wooshed open and she stepped onto the train and sat down, her shoulder leaned against the wood panelling along the side of the seat. As the train moved away from the station, the men sat catty-corner from her. Covered by the seat side, she rolled her eyes.

It was the same every weekday (emphasis on weekday, for the weekends in Berlin were considered too dangerous to allow Hannah outside of the sparsely touristed Mariendorf): breakfast at the little Turkish place down the street from her apartment, a slow walk down Mariendorfer Damm, catching the U6 to Tempelhof, then the S41 to Heidelberger Platz, and lastly the U3 to Thielplatz before spending a couple of hours reading outside of Freie. She came back to her apartment in the afternoon, was allowed out for grocery shopping in the early evening, and then was under house arrest until she left the next day for her breakfast. It was _painfully_ monotonous.

Today, however, she found it almost acceptable because she knew that the moment she arrived home, her husband would be waiting for her there, and from that point, she was only ten hours from seeing her daughter.

Her speediness at Heidelberger Platz made her catch an early train, so by the time she reached Tempelhof, she was about ten minutes ahead of schedule. No one was going out to the suburbs at this time of day, so the choice in trains was distinctly lacking. When she got to the Underground of Tempelhof, she was greeted by the sound of moderate silence, so she took a seat at one of the grimy benches and was about to get her book out again when there was a sudden burst of sound coming down the stairs.

'No! We take the U...' a crumple of paper. 'The U6 to Westphaleg and then walk!'

'We go to Alt-Mariendorf,' answered another voice. '_Then_ we walk. If we get off at Westphaleg, we'll have to walk even farther with our bags.'

Hannah looked up the stairs to see a couple, each lugging two bags, coming down the stairs. The woman, who was looking extremely harried, was leaning heavily to one side as she looked at a fresh copy of the U-Bahn map. Cracking open her book, she tried to ignore the two of them, but once they got down to her level, they chose to sit right next to her. Shifting oddly, she crossed her legs away from them and leaned heavily on the arm of the bright yellow bench.

'Gestatten Sie?'

Hannah swallowed and looked over at the dark-haired man sitting next to her. She pressed her index finger to the page of her book and shut it. 'Ja?'

'Wo befindet sich der nächste Bahnhof für Kruckenbergstraße?'

She paused, staring at them as she shook her head slowly. 'I--I'm sorry, I--'

'Oh good, you speak English,' said the brown-haired woman next to him as she leaned forward, her curls falling in her eyes. 'Neither of us is really good at German.'

'We've just flown in and are trying to get to our new apartment on Kruckenbergstraße,' said the man, holding out a Xeroxed map showing the apartment complex. 'Do you know how we get to Kruckenbergstraße?'

Biting her lip, she looked blankly beyond them to the two men farther down on the platform. 'Get off at Westphaleg.'

Turning to ignore them again, she was exasperated when the man tapped her shoulder. 'What do we do after that?'

'I don't know,' she lied, closing her book and slipping it into her purse. 'I'm sorry, I'm not from this part of the city.'

'Oh,' said the woman softly. 'Could you maybe ask those men for us?'

Hannah shook her head jerkily. 'I don't like talking to people I don't know, I'm sorry.'

'Maybe we should take a taxi,' muttered the man to the woman as he stood. 'It'd be a lot easier for us.'

The woman stood and looked down at her. 'Thanks for your help.'

Hannah nodded, clutching at the back of her bag as the two of them walked away. There was a rush of air that proceeded the train, and once it stopped in the station, she jumped aboard the closest car, followed closely by her keepers. Down the platform, the couple waited until the last possible moment to jump into the foremost car, the man barely getting his bag through before the door shut. Pressed against the door, he looked sideways at the woman.

'Was that her?'

'Yeah,' said Jessie, tugging at her dyed and permed hair. 'I'd recognise her anywhere.'


End file.
